Becoming
by cutiesonthehorizon
Summary: Brian fears the future. Short reaction fic to 1x12 The Assassination of Eddie Morra.


A/N: My first fic in this fandom, hopefully there will be more. Just a short reaction to the episode 1x12 The Assassination of Eddie Morra. Let me know what you think, and enjoy the story.

Becoming

" _It's like a baptism. You are initiated now. You are part of the real world. The strong eat the weak. Same as it ever was. "_

Sands has just left the building, leaving Brian Finch behind in turmoil. Something about the last hour just made Brian's skin crawl more than the whole charade with killing Piper. At the time, he knew it was just for looks. Sure, they needed it to look real and he still had to meet up with her later and make sure she was unharmed and on her way out of the country, but for him, it was still all just pretend. But Sands and Morra believed it. Two highly intelligent men believed that Brian Finch was capable of cold blooded murder, that he was now one of them. Part of the world, where _the strong eat the weak._

It boggled his mind. How could anyone think that of him… what was more, anyone using NZT? If Brian saw a way out of this, then so had Morra. He had to. So why did Sands look at him like a proud poppa who just saw his kid ride the bike for the first time?

Brian took another swallow of the bitter liquid in his glass and leaned back on the couch, one hand reaching up to rub at his eyelids. He was wondering what was it that made these two men so cold. After tonight, he was pretty sure Sands went through some hard shit when growing up, which was probably followed by a short stint in the army, then the intelligence agency, from where he was recruited by Morra. Why? What made Sands choose the senator over a thriving career? Brian shook his head and grimaced.

Who was Sands would be an important question on Brian's imaginary table of unsolved mysteries, yet one he wasn't about to dug into right now. The NZT was leaving his system and it was the middle of a screwed up night. Still… something didn't let Brian rest.

Sands was an agent, a man who saw and did many bad things, though maybe he himself believed they were for good cause. This man had no problem thinking of Brian as a killer, even though he _knew_ how much Brian hated causing anyone any harm. Sands believed that a guy who wouldn't kill a fly and stopped to help an old lady cross the street would be capable of showing another person under a train, or shoot them right in the face. What did it say about Sands? Or rather, what did it say about Brian's future? Because there was that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that Sands might've known Brian was a good guy, that he started this journey as the right guy, yet he thought there was a chance for such a drastic change. Why?

Brian couldn't help but flinch as his eyes landed on his music collection hiding several pills of NZT.

After all, Sands might've seen Eddie Morra _way before_ the guy became the senator and a presidential candidate. He might've seen Morra when his intentions were also good and clean, before people around him started dying.

Before NZT changed him.

And that was what Brian was afraid of, that was what kept him up this night and probably will keep him awake many a nights to come. That transparent little pill that could for several hours make a genius out of a simple guy. The pill that opened his eyes to the world in a way nothing else could. Each time that pill was wearing off, Brian could feel the shutter closing on his mind, the world becoming greyer, duller. Still, some of the colors stayed. Each time Brian took the pill, there was something left behind. Like few of the moves from the self defense lesson, or the way to assemble a gun. These were mostly muscle memory, but Brian could also still recite his father's whole diagnosis. Some knowledge simply stuck around, even after the NZT wore off. And while his brain might've looked the same on a CT scan now during his off time as it looked before he started using the little translucent pill, Brian could tell the difference.

Some things just clicked faster than before.

So either he was really smart before the NZT and was just too much of a slob to realize it, or slowly, the chemical was changing his brain, making the transition after the pill wore off a little smoother. As his father told him – no one knew what where the effects of a long term use of NZT. Even with Morra's enzyme, there had to be some effects.

Brian blinked and leaned over, pouring himself another glass. He shouldn't drink, he knew. Alcohol was just one more chemical in his body fucking with his mind. But he didn't care. Right now, he enjoyed the bitter taste and the burn of the liquid going down his throat. It made him focus on the here and now. It pushed back the other Brian, the one in the jump sweater that was looking at him questioningly from the opposite chair.

"I don't want to talk to you," Brian muttered and the jump sweater vanished into thin air without a word. Brian shook his head, and then with a groan rubbed his palms over his face.

He was changing; there was no doubt about it. The only question was - what will he become? Will the intelligence the NZT brings kill his compassion, kill his humanity? Will he become someone who wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger?

Or will he stay a person who didn't think Boyle would shoot Casey Rooks without hesitation? A person who made a mistake, because he didn't even think Boyle could choose a lethal option, when there were so many other choices not involving the pulling of a trigger.

As smart as Brian was with or without the NZT, he couldn't answer this question. He could just hope that if he would start getting off the rail, he would have someone to pull him back. After all, Morra didn't seem to have any moral compass shadowing his steps, nor did Sands. They didn't have a pesky detective by their side, or a family that would make them see straight. Maybe that was all that would make the difference between Brian and them. Having friends and having family. At least Brian hoped that would be enough. He also hoped that said friends and family wouldn't be the ones paying the price for keeping Brian on the good side, if there even was anything like that.

Putting away the now empty glass, Brian lied down on the couch and closed his eyes. He had a few hours of sleep left, before he would have to get up and face Rebecca and the others at work, looking as if everything was right in the world. He wasn't a killer yet, wasn't part of Morra's club and that would have to do for now.

* * *

Piper was gone, no one was the wiser and after a bad night and hardly any sleep, all Brian wanted was a calm day at work, with maybe a little case thrown in for taking his mind off stuff. What he didn't want, was to have a chat with Eddie Morra at his own desk, at his FBI "office", right in the morning, without NZT or coffee in his system.

" _Why are you trying so hard to hold on to a person you was before NZT?" Morra asked and Brian frowned._

"It's who I am."

"Doesn't have to be."

Brian protested, although he wasn't sure why he was even trying. Maybe he wanted to see how far the senator was gone. In the end, he got his answer.

"… _we are different from other people, Brian. We become more different with every pill we take. You don't have to run from that. You can embrace it."_

" _I don't want to be someone else."_

" _I think you do. You are just not willing to admit it yet."_

Brian's teeth clenched as he looked into the eyes of man who held his life in his hands.

" _You are on NZT. You are above the kind of concerns that you are letting to weigh you down. Put them down and walk away. You will feel so much lighter."_

With that, Eddie Morra stood up and left Brian alone to ponder his words. Or rather, to ponder the look he saw on Morra's face. The glint in his eyes, the total confidence that he was talking to the right man, that every word he said will become the truth. For a scary second, Brian saw his own face looking at him and it scared him more than anything.

Up until then, the NZT seemed like the biggest gift Brian could receive. It opened his mind and made him a better person, one who could save people, one who could do the right thing. For the first time Brian felt some doubt creeping in. Was he strong enough to stay a person his father could be proud of? Or will he become just another Eddie Morra or Sands – cold blooded killers who lost perception of what was right and what was wrong?

When Mike peeked in with a grin and pulled the pill mischievously from his sling, Brian reached out with a hand that wasn't shaking and swallowed the pill with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

The End


End file.
